


Good Boy

by ladydragon76



Category: Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Fanfiction, M/M, character: bob, character: sunstreaker, genre: angst - Freeform, genre: drama, genre: tragedy, rating: R - Freeform, verse: idw, warning: character death, warning: read at your own risk, warning: triggery content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-02
Updated: 2012-10-02
Packaged: 2017-11-15 12:23:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/527272
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladydragon76/pseuds/ladydragon76
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><b>Summary:</b> Pets have such short lifespans.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Good Boy

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Bibliotecaria_D](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bibliotecaria_D/gifts).



> **Warnings:** Character death, triggery content.  
>  **Notes:** So I bid on Bibliotecaria_D's fic thingy. One bids what they’re willing to do to see the next part of one of her projects completed, she chooses what would motivate her, and one fulfills their offer. I offered fic of 1000+ words of any verse, character, what-have-you that she wanted me to write about, and she accepted, much to my glee. ♥
> 
> My prompt: “Bob - pets have such short lifespans. I don't care what Autobot is with him, or how it happens, so long as it's gentle and heartbreaking when it happens or/if/and when Sunstreaker thinks about it.”
> 
> She told me to make her cry. Well, it made _me_ cry, which is something I’ve only managed to do to myself twice before, and both of those scenes I was bleeding on the page about my own miscarriage and I teared up a little. If you’ve ever loved a pet, I think this will be hard to read. You might even want to skip it if the loss is still too raw.
> 
> That said, I think I’m kinda proud of myself for this, even if my betas are both demanding make-it-up-to-them fics. =D 

**Title:** Good Boy  
**‘Verse:** IDW  
**Series:** None  
**Rating:** R  
**Characters:** Sunstreaker, Bob  
**Summary:** Pets have such short lifespans.  
**Warnings:** Character death, triggery content.  
**Notes:** So I bid on Bibliotecaria_D's fic thingy. One bids what they’re willing to do to see the next part of one of her projects completed, she chooses what would motivate her, and one fulfills their offer. I offered fic of 1000+ words of any verse, character, what-have-you that she wanted me to write about, and she accepted, much to my glee. ♥

My prompt: “Bob - pets have such short lifespans. I don't care what Autobot is with him, or how it happens, so long as it's gentle and heartbreaking when it happens or/if/and when Sunstreaker thinks about it.”

She told me to make her cry. Well, it made _me_ cry, which is something I’ve only managed to do to myself twice before, and both of those scenes I was bleeding on the page about my own miscarriage and I teared up a little. If you’ve ever loved a pet, I think this will be hard to read. You might even want to skip it if the loss is still too raw.

That said, I think I’m kinda proud of myself for this, even if my betas are both demanding make-it-up-to-them fics. =D 

 

**Good Boy**

 

Sunstreaker liked this spot on the edge of the Wildlands, beyond the city noise and bustle.

Not that the Wildlands were so wild anymore.

The once dangerous, waving tentacles that liked to snatch ships out of the sky had changed as peace had finally settled on Cybertron. The tentacles had hardened. They were now tree-like, large, branching, and beautiful. A living forest unlike anything anyone could find described in what historical files they’d managed to salvage. Crystals had grown out of the ground, and dotted their ways up the trunks and out onto the branches.

This was their spot. A perfect place where the light of the sun Cybertron had finally tumbled into an orbit around shone and sparkled off of the crystals, refracting colored light to paint the ground below in ever-shifting patterns.

It was peaceful. Calm.

Sunstreaker relaxed back, comfortable against this particular tree. The trunk had been worn even smoother over the years and vorns they’d been coming here. Sometimes Sunstreaker would draw. Sometimes he’d watch Bob run around. Sometimes they just had sat, just as they were now, and watched the day go by.

Bob's chin rested on Sunstreaker’s thigh, and his hand was in place on his pet's head. His smallest finger curved along the back of Bob's helm, the lateral edge of his hand resting over the back of his neck. Sunstreaker's fingers rested over the top of the insecticon's helm, occasionally curling to lightly scratch back and forth. His thumb hooked around Bob’s right antenna.

They'd sat just like this countless times. It was a wonder Bob’s helm didn’t sport the same wear the tree did.

Sunstreaker rubbed his thumb back and forth, randomly running it up the antenna stalk. Bob purred contentedly, but there was a staticky rasp to it. It caught and roughened the purr, made it hitch and catch and skip.

There was no running today. There hadn’t been for some time now.

Once, for vorns really, Sunstreaker had walked his pet here, but then came the day when Bob couldn’t manage such a long hike anymore. It’d been a long time since he could. When the hiking out for their camping trips became too hard on the insecticon, Sunstreaker took to driving them. Bob would cling to the roof of his alt mode, chirring and chattering, the wind of their passage blowing his antenna flat.

It had taken a few times, but eventually the Security Forces grew used to the sight and stopped pulling Sunstreaker over. They would come here, and Bob, exhilarated from the ride, would run himself to exhaustion as Sunstreaker watched and smiled.

Over time that exhaustion came sooner and sooner, Bob’s once powerful limbs growing weaker, until the day he went sliding off Sunstreaker’s roof. Thankfully, the insecticon hadn’t been injured as Sunstreaker had barely begun to move. He had, in fact, clicked impatiently at Sunstreaker to transform, scuttling back and forth. Sunstreaker complied and started off even slower, but Bob couldn’t maintain his grip.

Their trips to this perfect place had stopped then. Sunstreaker wouldn’t risk his pet being injured for something that, yes, they both enjoyed, but wasn’t crucial. It’d taken Sideswipe snorting, calling him a dumbaft, and suggesting Sunstreaker hire a transport to get them back here.

They came less frequently, but the transport was a good idea and worked out pretty well. Bob got a kick out of the ride even if it didn’t wind him up as much as zooming down the freeway on Sunstreaker’s back had. At least he still had energy when they arrived to bound a little after a curious turbofox, or sniff at a petrorabbit that was too brave for its continued survival.

Not that Bob had tackled anyone for any reason other than exuberant affection since they’d returned to Cybertron. That turbofox had been hungry though. Lucky for the petrorabbit, Bob thought it was a merry game of chase and distracted the turbofox long enough for it to escape.

Sunstreaker cycled his vents. Even those days were over now though. When Sunstreaker was able to, he brought Bob here, but now they just sat, his hand on his pet’s helm, Bob’s chin on his thigh.

Sunstreaker had never considered it in those early days when he and Ironhide had found Bob. He’d never considered growing attached, or what a good companion Bob would be. How Bob alone, out of everyone for the longest time, was the only one that sought out Sunstreaker’s company. He never once thought, in the beginning, just how much one clever runt of an insecticon would come to mean to him. How fast. How completely.

He’d never considered just how short Bob’s life would be compared to his own.

Not back then.

It was all he thought about now. He dreaded it, tried to deny it, but it was inevitable. It was why they were here.

Sunstreaker massaged Bob’s helm, listening to the rattling purr. Only two trees over a petrorabbit nosed out into view. One antenna twitched vaguely in its direction, but that was it. Sunstreaker cycled his vents and scritched his pet’s helm.

The transport that had brought them today had no recall time. Sunstreaker wanted to stay out as long as he could. For Bob. In this place they both loved.

Bob shifted, and Sunstreaker looked down. He smiled a little as the insecticon stood, then pressed close to snuffle at his face.

Sunstreaker chuckled, both hands coming up to help brace Bob as his front sets of limbs grasped at his chest and shoulders. “Goofy bug.”

Bob chuffed, snorted, and pressed his face, mandible guard and all, to Sunstreaker’s before letting himself slide back down.

Sunstreaker smiled down at him as Bob rested his chin on his thigh, settling and resettling until he was in _just_ the right place. His one large forearm remained draped over Sunstreaker’s lap, and he heaved a sigh. Sunstreaker let his hand fall into its place on Bob’s helm, and leaned his head back against the tree, staring at the bright sky.

Bob purred, the sound rattling and hitched, then stopped.

Sunstreaker’s fingertips scritched and his thumb rubbed.

It was because he’d dampened his audials that he couldn’t hear.

Never mind that he was straining to hear the familiar, comforting, loved systems.

If he didn’t look, then it wasn’t real.

Sunstreaker blinked rapidly but that didn’t help either. He rubbed Bob’s helm, and kept his optics on the sky. “Good boy, Bob. Good boy.”

~ | ~

**([Table of Contents](http://ladydragon76.livejournal.com/6214.html) ) ******


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